Tainted By Eternal Flames
by Empress.sama
Summary: Two-Shots: He's a teacher, and she's his student. But the day he finds countless scars and bruises on her body is the day everything changes. "Don't look at me - I'm tainted and -" "Actually, Misaki, I find you beautiful." TakumiXMisaki. Alternate Universe.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello dear readers :) Thank you so much for all those who reviewed and gave their thoughts on "Unsaid Words". Well,_ _This idea was originally supposed to be a multi-chaptered story but_ _I scrapped it__. So here's another story which I started since way back before Unsaid Words which now has become a Two- shots (All thanks to my one week vacations :D) _

_Enjoy!_

_Warning: Rated T (for Mature Teens and Older)_

_Disclaimer:__KWMS © Hiro Fujiwara._

_English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes._

* * *

_**I**_w**is**h_**,**_**a**_**n**_d_**I**__**c**_r_**y**_

_**(I**_l_**i**_**v**e_**, a**_n_**d**_I**k**_**n**_ow_**)**_

T**h**_**e**_r**e**i_**s**_**n**o**t**hi**n**_**g**_I_**c**_a**n**d**o**

[_**So**_h**o**l**d**_**m**_e_**,**_**a**n_**d**_**u**s**e**me**g**_**e**_n**t**_**l**_y]

**F**_**i**_l**l**t_**h**_**i**s**e**mp**t**_**i**_n**e**_**s**_**s**

_**~I**_f**o**_**n**_**l**y_**f**_o_**r**_a**m**_**o**_m**e**_**n**_t~

A**n**_**d**_l**e**t_**m**_**e**l**i**v_**e**_

W**i**_**t**_h**y**o_**u**_**b**e**s**id**e**m**e**

(F**o**_**r**_e**v**e_**r**_**m**o**r**e)

* * *

So, can anyone tell me how you would use sine, cosine, or tangent to find the missing side length of a triangle given only two angles?"

Emerald eyes scour the classroom for any raised hands. The teacher sighs, raking a hand through his messy, blonde hair when he finds none.

After a moment of silence, he turns to the one student he knows will have the answer - even if she doesn't volunteer, she is his most intelligent pupil, and is never hesitant to answer when asked.

"Ayuzawa, will you please inform the class of the process that is to be used -"

His eyes widen as he stops speaking abruptly.

She's there, in her desk, as always, but she's asleep.

Her head rests upon her bent arms, her face tilted sideways. She breaths lightly through her minutely parted lips, and her eyes are sealed closed.

Takumi frowns slightly. Slowly, he makes his way over to her desk.

"Ayuzawa, you need to wake up now," he softly tells her.

She doesn't stir.

His frown deepens.

Gently, he places a hand on her shoulder and shakes her. "Ayuzawa," he says, his voice growing louder.

After one final nudge, she bolts upright, her pale amber eyes wide, her breath coming in rapid, heavy swallows.

Takumi is shocked to see that tears are brimming along her eyelids. Before he can ask, however, she wipes them away with her sleeve and smiles weakly at him. "Sorry about that, Usui-sensei. What was the question, again?"

He stares at her for a moment before responding, "The question is…"

The rest of the class period passes in a blur, but through it all, Takumi watches her silently through narrow eyes.

"Ayuzawa," he calls at the end of the hour, "please stay after. I would like to have a word with you."

Her cheeks flush with shame as she shuffles over to his desk, her book bag bouncing delicately against her hip.

"Listen, Usui-sensei, if it's about when I fell asleep - accidentally - then I'm really sor -"

"Are you all right, Ayuzawa?" he intervenes smoothly, his gaze boring into her averted eyes.

She glances up in surprise.

For a second, he thinks he sees something in her eyes. For a second, there is a flash of pain and despondency -

But then it's gone, and she grins at him, as if without a worry in the world. "I'm completely fine, Usui-sensei! There's nothing wrong. I'm surprised you even asked."

His eyebrows raise slightly.

"If that's all you needed, I have to get going," she continues, pushing back a lock of her hair that fell into her eyes.

He nods at her.

As she turns to leave, he says, "Ayuzawa, if you ever have any problems, you can tell me. I can keep secrets."

She pauses, her back facing him. After a short pause, she answers softly, "Thank you, Usui-sensei."

And then she's gone.

During the next three weeks before summer break, she doesn't show any sign of fatigue or any sign that there's something wrong with her. Every day she comes to his class, ever the optimistic person, always smiling and working.

But he's still suspicious, even after school is out and the three months of summer break are open before him.

And he waits, with a strange, foreign sense of anticipation churning inside him, until the first day of the next school year begins.

She is a senior this year, and, by a chance of luck, the old A.P. Calculus teacher retired, and he was offered the position. He accepted it immediately, inwardly thankful, because he knew she would be taking it after A.P. Trig.

He sits at his desk, eyes closed, leaning back in his leather chair, as his students for sixth period all file in. He studiously ignores the giggles that filter into his ears - his admirers are nothing but nuisances.

When the bell finally rings, he opens his eyes and searches the classroom for a certain raven head.

He doesn't see her.

His lips tilt downward, and he hastily checks his list of students. Her name is right there, listed before his eyes.

Unnerved, he calls out her name. "Ayuzawa Misaki?"

No answer. The other students glance around the room, at each other, pointing. "Ayuzawa Misaki?" they murmur, confused.

"Ah, she's right there, sensei!" A girl with blonde hair pulled into pigtails points to a figure in the farthest corner of the room, next to the window.

He looks to where the girl is indicating, and then blinks.

Ayuzawa sits with her chin resting in the cup of her palm, staring out the window where light rain falls. She has a black hooded jacket on, and the hood is pulled up to cover her head and nearly half her forehead. Takumi can clearly see the cord that leads to her ear buds - which are planted firmly in her ears - trailing down to her jacket pocket.

He can hardly recognize her.

* * *

_You look at me, asking, "Who?" Living life, through and through. Until this ends, it'll be just me and you._

_Until this ends, you'll feel my pain, too._

* * *

Sensing eyes upon her, Misaki rips out her ear buds and turns to address them.

The whole class is staring at her.

Misaki raises an eyebrow, and asks flatly, "Can I help you?"

One by one, they avert their eyes. She grits her teeth, and is just about to replace her ear buds when someone calls her name.

"Ayuzawa?"

She sighs heavily, and drops her ear buds before turning to the voice. "What is it now -"

It's Usui-sensei. He is staring at her unabashedly with emerald eyes wider than usual.

She rushes to apologize, not wanting a detention on the first day of school. "I'm sorry, Usui-sensei, I didn't mean to say something so rude -"

"It's all right," he says quietly, his gaze still locked on hers. He seems a little dazed, she notices. "Just - no listening to iPods in class, okay?"

She grumbles under her breath - "Damn teachers: can't see that music is good for the soul. System of a Down is far more important than this crap. What I am taking, again? Calculus? Damn. I hate school" - but shoves the cord in her pocket anyway.

She looks up once more, and finds that he's still staring at her. She holds his gaze, one eyebrow raised slightly - as if in a challenge - until he returns his focus to the paper before him and continues with the roll call.

When he's not looking, she rolls down the sleeve of her hoodie and rubs absentmindedly at the new bruises she received this morning. They're in the shape of five fingers curled around her wrist. She quickly glances at them before she swallows heavily and roughly yanks up her sleeve again.

And when he's not looking, she replaces her ear buds and lets her overbearing thoughts - _memories _- be lost amongst the music.

_Can you look past these imperfections? Will you, for me? That's the only thing I ask. Don't treat me as if I'm weak, as if I'm different. I'm trying, really. I'm trying to change._

_I just need your help._

She's the same every day for the next two weeks. She only wears long-sleeved clothes, only wears jeans. She comes in every day, her eyes blank and ostensibly sightless, and never looks at him. Never.

And every day, he thinks back to the year before, previous to when she changed.

"_Good morning, Usui-sensei! How are you today?"_

"_Do you need me to stay after school to help you clean the classroom? I'm sure I can fit it into my schedule."_

"_Um, I'll answer the question, if you'd like…"_

_Her perpetually cheerful grin. Her amber eyes, radiating contentment. Her vibrant, intelligent words._

…_gone._

But she's just a student. He cannot waste time on her, cannot waste his time thinking about her.

…because she's _just _his student.

Nothing more, nothing less.

* * *

"Where have you been?"

She clenches her fists tightly. Tries to ward off the impending fear that has all ready begun to seep through. "I missed the bus, otou-sama. Pardon me for being so late."

Slap. Her face is now turned harshly to the left.

"Don't smart-ass me, kid! I expect you to be home every day by 3:30, no exceptions!"

Another slap. She's on the ground now.

Her eyes close.

She listens to the sound of leather roughly being pulled through cloth.

She locks her teeth together as her shirt is pulled up. Hears the belt soar through the air.

And she screams.

Takumi yawns slightly before lifting up his margarita for another mouthful. He frowns, realizing that it's empty. "Hey," he calls to the bartender - a pretty, well-endowed brunette. "Can I get another one of these?"

She sidles over to him and smiles slowly, seductively. "Sure thing."

He frowns at her as she walks away. He doesn't care for the ones that fling themselves at him.

As he tips back his head for another drink, he thanks the Lord that he's twenty-two and old enough to have alcohol.

He doesn't know what else can suppress his whirling thoughts.

* * *

_Dance the night away_

_We'll live in our own creation_

_And set ablaze anything that has ever caused us misfortune_

_We'll do away with our thoughts,_

_Forget our memories_

_And be free_

* * *

When Takumi leaves the bar, it's all ready past midnight. He squints at the sky, but can't pick out any stars - only the full moon far, far above him.

He pauses for a moment, assesses his condition, and decides that he's had too many drinks tonight to be able to drive home safely. With a hearty sigh, he turns a corner and begins to look for a taxi.

But the scene before him stops him dead in his tracks.

It's her. But…she's with a man.

His eyes widen.

Her raven head is easily distinguishable. She's clad in a black long-sleeved dress that acts as a second skin and barely reaches halfway above her thighs - but she has solid black tights on to cover her legs. She is tightly intertwined with a handsome blonde man who looks no older than himself. Their voices easily reach him.

"75,000 yen, Ryoushi," she breaths, her head buried in the man's neck. "I won't take anything less."

Her hand moves down the man's stomach. "P-please, Misaki-san -"

"Do we have a deal?" Her hand moves to rest at the entrance of the man's jeans.

"You're asking for too much," Ryoushi says, his breath coming faster.

And her hand disappears into Ryoushi's pants.

Takumi is frozen, left to do nothing but watch as, after several seconds of silence, the man whips his head to the side, his eyes closed, panting harshly.

"I'll ask one more time," Misaki whispers slowly. "Do. We. Have. A. Deal?"

Before the man can shake his head 'no,' Misaki steps back and, with steady hands, undoes the buttons of Ryoushi's white shirt one-by-one until it falls to the ground, and his upper body is left exposed.

"Agree with me, and I'll do whatever you want," she says.

The man swallows.

A sardonic grin grows upon Misaki's lips. She leans forward and presses her cloth-covered breasts against Ryoushi's chest in a crude sort of embrace.

Takumi can visibly see the man shudder with suppressed need.

"Now, tell me again," she murmurs as she begins to trail kisses along the man's neck, "what you say to this offer."

Suddenly, the man reaches out, his hand cupping the back of her head, and pushes her face to his hardened form. "Fine," he pants. "I'll pay. J-just hurry up and do it."

Takumi can barely see the small curve of a smile make its way upon her lips.

"Good," she whispers, and continues on with her business.

Light-headed, Takumi turns away, staggering slightly as he makes his way back to the bar.

He's definitely not going to school tomorrow.

…because he's going to need at least ten more glasses to get rid of this memory.

* * *

_They say ignorance is bliss. Until now, I never believed it._

_But my view on life has changed._

…_as have you._

* * *

She doesn't come to school for a whole week after Takumi saw her that night. On that Friday, he calls over a young girl he suspects might know where his student is.

"Do you know what might have happened to Ayuzawa?" he asks, staring directly into the girl's depthless brown eyes.

Her cheeks grow red at his intense focus, but she answers anyway (albeit unevenly). "I-I have no idea, Usui-sensei. I don't k-know her that well. She doesn't have m-many friends."

He frowns deeply at her, and the girl - Kishiko, that's her name - flinches slightly. "Very well then," he sighs, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. "Contact me if you hear anything about her."

"H-hai, Usui-sensei," she stutters before bowing to him and rushing out the room.

Once she's gone, he turns to the wall and drives his fist into it so hard that a small crack forms.

"Damn," he breaths. "Where the hell is she?"

On Monday, it's the hottest day of the year so far - set at a boiling 105 degrees - and the air conditioner is broken. Nearly every one of the students is dressed in shorts and t-shirts.

But when she comes in the classroom, she has on her usual attire: a black hoodie and jeans.

He doesn't question her - tries not to glance at her every ten seconds, and fails accordingly - throughout the whole period, but at the end, he calls her over to his desk.

"Yes, Usui-sensei?" she says wearily, looking miserable in the overbearing heat.

"You were gone for a week," he responds, shuffling papers on his desk (doing anything he can to keep his attention off her).

"No," she drawls, her voice layered with sarcasm.

Finally, he glances up at her - notices that the hood is down today; her unblemished face is open before him, her raven hair falling in waves halfway down her back, her pale amber eyes large and somnolent - with his eyebrows raised. After a moment, he asks, "Care to tell me why?"

"Not really."

His lips tilt downward. He tries to salvage what hope he has left of communicating with her as he changes the subject. "It's unusually hot today - aren't you a little warm in that jacket?"

There it is - that same solemn flash in her eyes he saw last school year. This time, however, it doesn't disappear - she just averts her gaze. "I'm fine."

He notices that she has begun to rub absentmindedly at her arms. "Misaki," he says harshly - she looks at him, surprised at his use of her first name - as he rises to stand before her. "If something is wrong, you need to tell me. This" - he gestures to her shocked form - "is completely unlike you. Did something happen over the summer? Because you've changed a lot, and I'm not exactly sure that I like it."

His newly-found irritation fades to be replaced with alarm when he sees that moisture is collecting in her eyes. "I'm sorry if you don't like who I've become, Usui-sensei," she says, her voice cracking, "but it's none of your business. So please stay out of it."

"It is nothing but my business," he responds calmly, "when one of my student is selling her body for money."

Her eyes fly open so wide that the white is nearly visible all around her irises, and her tears are left to fall without restraint. "H-how -"

"I saw you last Friday night," he intervenes softly, quietly.

Hey eyes crinkle at the edges, the corners of her mouth slant downward, and her eyebrows push up and together, painting the most heartbroken picture Takumi has ever seen. "Just _leave me alone! Whatever I do doesn't concern you!_" she yells at him, and sprints out the door.

* * *

_So you think you understand me, do you? You think you know what I think, what I feel?_

…_what I've seen and experienced?_

_Trust me, if that were true, you'd be like me right now._

_You'd be lost in your own personal hell with no way out. You'd be wishing that you had never been born. You'd be praying that every morning would be your last._

_If you were me, you'd be dying a little more every day._

* * *

The next morning, he walks into the main office of the school to find Ayuzawa's back presented before him. She's leaning far over the councilor's desk, her voice low and rapid.

Rather than letting himself be seen, Takumi silently steps into a darkened hallway and strains to hear their conversation.

"Are you sure, Misaki-san?" the elderly councilor questions. "I mean, it's entirely possible, but you have the highest math grades in the whole school. It would be a pity for you to drop out of A.P. Calculus now -"

Takumi's eyes narrow.

He hears Misaki take a deep breath before responding, "I'm sure of my decision. Besides, having only five periods will lessen my homework stress. I think this is for the best."

"Very well," the lady says.

There's the rustling of paper. A printer begins to whir.

"Here's your new schedule - you'll need to have it signed by the principle. Thank you for coming in, Misaki-san."

"No, thank you, Yuuhi-san." Misaki's voice is soft and grateful - for a second, Takumi felt a pang of jealousy: she never speaks to him like that anymore. "This was very helpful." She said and made her way out of the office.

Takumi waits until her footsteps have disappeared out the door before he follows her silently.

* * *

_Fighting and caving,_

_Praying and waiting_

_Waiting for our end to come,_

_Praying for our pain to cease,_

_Caving into our doubts,_

_Fighting against our sins,_

_And holding onto the fact_

_That chaos always wins_

* * *

He follows her until she enters the large one-story building that contains the school's indoor pool. There's nearly an hour left before first period begins, so the campus is deserted. Only he and a few of the office staff care to come in at this hour.

But apparently today his early-morning hours will pay off.

He pauses for a second, his mind inwardly battling between instinct and reason until instinct finally becomes victorious.

Slowly, he pushes the glass door open, making sure that he cannot be heard as he quietly walks down the narrow hallway and into the chlorine-scented room. He presses himself against the wall so as not to be seen.

Takumi hears the rustling of cloth, and curiosity pushes him to glance around the corner.

It's all he can do not to make some sort of noise in response to what he sees before him.

She's standing on the diving board, hands hanging limply at her sides, her eyes closed. And it's the first time - besides that night at the bar and last school year - that he's seen her without her jeans and hoodie on.

Now, she is clad only in a two-piece dark blue bathing suit, and her hair falls around her shoulders, delicately frames her face, softly covers her eyes.

And she's covered in wounds.

They start at the base of her neck: small, angry red slashes that criss-cross diagonally and come together to create tiny X's. It almost looks as if she has on a red fishnet stocking. Further down her body, the lesions grow larger and are not so close together. Two of them, Takumi notes numbly, are still bleeding - they each start at her shoulder blades and continue down her back in two wide, parallel lines.

When she raises her arms to get ready to dive, he sees that there are two red words - one on each arm - etched into her skin, as if with a knife: _worthless_ and _penitence_.

Her whole body is cut up, filled with gashes and bruises and sores. Anywhere that she's not hurt - places where this happens are very few - her skin is eerily pale, almost translucent. If a person had been given a full-body tattoo design of numerous red vines intercepting each other infinitely, Misaki is the ideal example of what it would look like.

And in a haunting nature, he finds it beautiful.

…he finds _her_ beautiful.

* * *

_If I say I'm tired, will you hold me?_

_If I say I'm sad, will you wipe away my tears?_

_If I say I'm going to die tomorrow, will you tell me you love me?_

…_will you tell me you love me, and mean it?_

_Tell me the truth, my love. I won't settle for less._

* * *

When she finally jumps off the diving board, she's smiling vividly. Her eyes are open wide as she arcs through the air.

For a moment, it seems to Takumi as if she is frozen - but then time resumes, and she plunges into the water with a perfect diver's form.

She swims under the water to the other side of the pool before finally resurfacing, gasping and rubbing water out of her eyes. She touches her arm lightly and hisses - the chlorine must sting - but then disregards it and floats on her back, using her arms to slowly move her through the water, staring blankly at the white ceiling high above.

And he noiselessly leaves her to savor her few moments of silence and tranquility.

* * *

"Ayuzawa," he calls from across the empty yard outside the school. For the regular students, it's the beginning of sixth period, and everyone is in their classes. Earlier, he reported to the office that he was feeling "sick" just so he could find her before she left the campus.

She turns to face him, but once she sees the face the voice belongs to, she whips right back around and starts to rapidly walk in the opposite direction.

With a sudden flash of unease, he sprints the short distance to her and clamps his hand down on her shoulder.

When she inhales swiftly through clenched teeth, he remembers the wide, purple bruise that marks her skin right where his hand is touching. But he doesn't let go.

Panicking, she tries to jerk away from him, yelling, "What are you _doing_? Let me _go_!"

"Ayuzawa, if you stop shouting, I'll release you, but you have to promise not to run away," he says delicately.

She whips her head around and glares at him, her amber eyes churning with unconcealed vehemence and loathing.

He meets her gaze steadily until her stiff form finally goes limp and she whispers, "Fine."

Cautiously, he removes his palm and is inwardly relieved when she doesn't automatically try to flee. It seems as if the life - the fight - has drained out of her, and before him stands nothing but a vacant shell.

"Ayuzawa, look at me," he orders gently. When she doesn't meet his eyes, he places a hand under her chin and tilts her head up. Gradually, she locks her somber amber eyes with his burning jade ones.

There are no tears, no signs of pain or vulnerability, just that same appearance of melancholy, that same domineering grief, in her amber depths.

"Come on," he says softly. "I'll treat you to lunch, and we can talk then."

Eventually, she nods once, and he gently pulls her to his car.

* * *

_The light is near, my love_

_The shadows are fading, and sorrow is being replaced with hope_

_My love, I think I see the path to salvation_

_It's right there, so close I can feel its warmth in my soul_

_Yes, it's right there_

_So close, and yet so far_

* * *

"And what would you like, ma'am?" The waiter smiles widely as he turns to address the raven-haired girl.

Misaki doesn't even notice as she quickly skims the menu before her (Takumi, on the other hand, glares openly). "I think I'll take today's special ramen order, please."

The waiter hurriedly writes her order down before reaching out to retrieve the two menus.

When they're finally alone, Takumi places his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his folded hands, staring at Misaki with inquisitive jade eyes. Today she's wearing not a hoodie, but rather a long-sleeved black turtle-neck sweater that covers everything it needs to (at least in her case). She has on tight, light-grey skinny jeans coupled with a black and blue checkered belt that rides low on her hips (however, it does nothing to hold up her jeans, considering that it's visible where it rests above her sweater). Her hair is messy and falls in untamed waves down to the middle of her back.

As he continues to stare at her, she reaches up to push her short bangs out of her eyes before finally directing her attention to him. "So, what do you need to talk about so badly?" she asks abruptly, her eyebrows raised slightly. "This was a kind of unexpected offer: a teacher and student having lunch together when school is still going on."

One corner of his lips turns up into a soft smirk. "It's not unexpected when my own student can't truthfully tell me when something is going on in her life that I need to know about."

"Ah, but you see," she says, taking a small sip of her water, "that's where it's different - I'm not your student anymore. And," she adds, "you don't need to know what goes on in my life. No one needs to know but myself."

His smirk turns into a frown. "All right," he muses, "you might say that" - he points to her arm - "but roll up your sleeves and give me one good reason why I should not be concerned."

She looks perplexed for a short moment before her eyes widen and she crosses her arms rapidly. She's too dazed to say anything.

"Misaki," he says softly (he figures that using her last name is not appropriate for this certain situation), "if you're being hurt, then you need to tell someone. You need to get help."

Slowly, she begins to shake her head.

"Misaki -"

"I don't need help," she whispers, her eyes still blank and staring at him. "You shouldn't even know about this. Um, I-I should get going now -"

She begins to stand, and his anger finally gets the best of him as he orders harshly, "Misaki, sit down, _now._"

Immediately, she plants herself back down, shocked at his demanding tone. When her eyes meet his again, tears are starting to form.

"Now, we can have a calm and civilized conversation about this," he says, his gaze hard, "or I can call the police and we can have them take care of you." He pauses before continuing, "Actually, if I were to do what's right, I would've called the police hours ago. But I'm willing to hear what you have to say."

She swallows visibly, and her hand shakes as she reaches up again to push her bangs back. "Okay," she says quietly. "I'll talk."

* * *

_Knowledge can be deadly_

_It can tear your life apart until there are nothing left but shreds and memories_

_Sometimes, I pray for ignorance_

_I pray for the harmony they say comes with not knowing anything_

_And I pray for my life to change_

_God, can you hear me? I'm calling for you_

_I need you_

_So, please, Lord, help me find redemption_

…_because it's definitely not coming to find me_

* * *

"At the end of the last school year," she starts, "my otou-san found out that my okaa-san was having an affair. He was furious, and he started to beat her. My parents have never had a really good relationship, b-but this was" - she pauses - "this was something different entirely. He beat her until she almost died, and I was standing right there, watching. I-I couldn't help it - I was frozen. But then she cried out, 'Misaki knew about it! She knew about it, and she didn't tell you!' And it was true. I had known about it, b-but I decided that I should let them figure it out on their own."

She closes her eyes. "It was the worst mistake I had ever made.

"He left her there, bleeding, and came for me instead. He yelled at me, called me 'useless' and 'a piece of shit' and 'the worst thing that had ever happened to him.' He eventually knocked me unconscious, and I-I guess my okaa-san took that extra time to flee."

She shrugs. Opens her eyes. "I haven't seen her since then, so I'm assuming that she's not going to come back. If I were her, I wouldn't. I don't blame her."

She touches the sleeve of her sweater, hesitates for a moment, and then roughly yanks it down, leaving her arm exposed. She gently traces the '_worthless_' that is engraved into her skin.

Takumi can now see that the word is a scar - it's a faint shade of red, and the skin is slightly raised. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at it.

"I mean, who would want this?" She pulls down the sleeve of her other arm, leaving the word '_penitence_' exposed. A sigh escapes her lips. "After that night, he's beaten me constantly. I guess he blames me for what my okaa-san did."

"Then why - on that Friday night, why were you -"

"I need the money," she intervenes quietly, her eyes still focused on the words on her arms. "As long as I live in his house, he's going to continue beating me. I'm trying to save up enough money to move away -"

"So you purposefully have sex with random men because you need _money?_" he asks, repulsed.

"_I'm not a freaking whore, okay?_" she yells, but then glances around the restaurant and lowers her voice. "You honestly think guys would have sex with me with these cuts and bruises? The second they see these" - she pulls down the cloth at her neck, revealing even more wounds - "_imperfections _they either back out instantly or scream and run away. So don't go acting like you know me and start calling me a whore." A single tear makes its way down her cheek, and her eyes radiate restlessness. "Because I'm not."

"But you still receive money for doing…other things," he says.

He's got her there.

Her eyes lower and she hastily wipes away the moisture on her cheek. "I don't care," she responds. "It's good money."

"Why don't you just get a job?"

She laughs - a short exhale of breath. "If I did that, he'd kill me for sure."

He frowns.

"I'm not allowed to leave the house besides going to school," she explains. "If he found out that I was here with you now…" She trails off.

"Then how are you able to…do your work, so to speak, if you are not allowed to leave your house?"

"I sneak out at night through my window," she responds, swirling her straw in her drink. "He hasn't caught me."

He's silent for a moment before he questions, "Has your otou-san ever…" He leaves the sentence hanging, refusing to meet her intense gaze.

"Raped me?" she provides casually.

His eyes widen, but he nods anyway.

"No," she answers. Pauses. Then adds, "Well, not yet, anyway."

"What do you mea -"

She shrugs. "And now you can see why I want to move away."

He's silent for a moment. Then: "Why haven't you ever contacted the police?"

"Ah, now there's a good one," she says lightly, but Takumi can hear the pain in her voice. "The thing is that my otou-san _is _the police."

He raises an eyebrow.

She sighs. "He's the head of the Kyoto Police Department. Anything he does can be nullified directly through him - he's very convincing when he wants to be. He could say that _I _cut _myself_ all over because I'm depressed and that he's going to sign me up for counseling."

"So it's a stalemate, then," Takumi offers. "Well, more like a stalemate in your own world - he's obviously the winner here."

She frowns. "Thanks for stating the facts, Usui-sensei. I really appreciate it."

He frowns back. "Just call me Takumi," he advises.

"Wait - why?" She's balking. "You're my teacher -"

He smirks a little. "Not anymore - you dropped my class, remember?"

"But it's still inappropriate," she argues, glancing up as their meals arrive (she smiles gratefully at the waiter, and the guy blushes profusely - Takumi glares yet again). Once her bowl is in front of her, she breaks her chopsticks apart and happily digs in.

"Give me one reason why it is," he says, eyeing his rice balls disdainfully - they are far too over-cooked.

She swallows her latest mouthful before replying, "Well, you are still a teacher, and I'm still a student. Don't you think it's odd - you know, me calling you by your first name?"

"I find nothing wrong with the matter." His smirk is gradually restored.

Misaki pouts. "Fine, then, _Takumi_. Happy now?"

"Immensely."

And, for the first time in a long time, she grins at him, and she laughs, unburdened.

And he thinks to himself that maybe, just maybe, he's beginning to care for her as something more than just a student.

* * *

_A/N: The next half of the story will be posted in 3 or 4 days (Hope so) ;) _

_Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Just Tell me what you think about this and review, please! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**_Thank you guys for the lovely reviews :D So here it is the other half of the story :) Enjoy ;)

* * *

_Do you see this? There's something happening here_

_Don't try to deny it, because I won't let you run away_

_I'll make you stay here and face it until you can no longer question what this is_

_Do you see now? I'm right here_

_All that I am is opened before you_

_Look into my eyes, and you'll see what my voice cannot convey_

_Look into my eyes, and you'll know how far I've fallen for you_

* * *

"You know you're my favorite teacher, right?" she asks, walking beside him as they head for his car.

Actually, he's a little shocked by this new piece of information: he thought she was the same with every teacher she had. But then a small smile forms on his lips, and there are no words to describe this sudden feeling of exhilaration that sparks through him.

"Now I do," he responds, reaching forward to hold her door open for her. She smiles at him as she slides into the passenger seat.

"And you know that I only dropped your class because I didn't want you to find out about my scars, right?" Her eyes lock on his as he sits down beside her in the driver's seat.

"Now I do," he repeats. "And besides," he adds, popping the car into reverse and backing out slowly, "you can always get back in, right?"

She frowns. "Actually, I can't. The school only allows for one schedule change per year, and that was mine."

"Damn," he mutters.

She glances at him. "What was that?"

"I said that's a shame," he covers, the tips of his ears going red. "I…enjoyed having you in my class."

"And I really enjoyed being there," she says, smiling openly. "Too bad, huh?"

He grunts in response.

They sit in silence for several minutes until Misaki begins to turn the dials on the radio. When she finds a channel she likes, she sighs with contentment and turns the volume up higher. "Usui-sen" - he stares at her - "I-I mean Takumi" - she glowers at him - "you really need to get better speakers. You can barely hear this musical masterpiece!" She turns the volume up as far as it can go, until he can feel it vibrate the whole car.

"Musical masterpiece?" he asks, wincing as the vocalist begins to sing about Russian roulette and mushrooms. "This is more like random crap on steroids."

She laughs freely, but turns the volume down anyway. "You have no appreciation for good music, Usu - ah, damn it, my bad - _Takumi_."

He lets out a light breath. "Whatever you say - it's still random crap on steroids."

"Yeah, but at least it's _good _random crap on steroids." She grins.

Abruptly, he remembers something he wanted to ask her, and rushes to do so before he forgets. "Misaki, why were you absent all last week?"

Her smile fades away. When she speaks, her voice so soft. "He beat me a little more than usual, that's all."

"That's all?" he questions, and his teeth grind together. "What exactly does 'a little more than usual' entail?"

"A few more cuts, a few more whips," she says casually, but the lie is evident in her voice.

"Anything else?" She opens her mouth to answer, but he cuts her off with a stern glare. "Tell me the truth, Misaki."

She gulps and turns to stare out the window. "He knocked me unconscious for a few days, okay?"

Takumi forces himself to calm down before he does something rash. "And that's it, right?" he asks curtly.

"Yep."

The rest of the drive is silent, and even though he tries not to admit it, he knows it's true.

He's worried about her.

* * *

_I try my hardest_

_Every day, I sacrifice a little more for you_

_But do you ever notice?_

_I know what the answer is, and I don't want to hear it_

_You've done enough to cause me pain all ready_

* * *

"Um, you can just drop me off right here," she advises quietly, pointing to a small park shortly ahead on the side of the road.

When he comes to a halt, she hurriedly gets out and bows to him respectively. "Thank you very much for the lunch, Takumi-san. I appreciate it immensely."

"So now it's Takumi-san?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Yep," she says lightly. "I figure it's more formal this way." And then she closes the door.

As he drives away, she waves at him, smiling cheerily.

He doesn't see her look at her watch. Doesn't see her clench her teeth as she tries to block off the tears.

But they come anyway.

…because it's 5:00 pm.

* * *

She opens the door to her house slowly, trying not to make any noise. It's dark inside; the shutters are all folded closed, and the only sound is the constant ticking of a clock in the living room down the hall.

"Otou-sama, I-I'm home," she calls, her heart pounding rapidly.

"Didn't I say" - his voice is right behind her - "to be home by 3:30 everyday?"

"Hai, otou-sama," she gasps, "I just had to stay after school to make up a test."

He sighs. "Lies, Misaki, all you tell me are lies. Well" - he grabs her by the neck, and holds her up against the wall - "this is your last chance. After this, you're gone."

And the beating begins.

* * *

Before Takumi heads to his sixth period class the next day, he glances around the entrance of the school to see if he can find her. But she's not there, and he exhales loudly before directing his footsteps to his classroom.

She probably went home already.

After two days of not seeing her, he strides into the front office and asks to see her attendance records. With a wary look, the secretary prints them out and hands them to him.

Wide-eyed, he sees that she hasn't been in school for the past two days.

He hurriedly thanks the secretary and rushes out of the main office, his eyes narrowed.

Something's happened to her.

* * *

Misaki yawns widely, and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. It's Monday morning before school, and she is standing in the main office, waiting for the secretary to finish with her current costumer. She has a forged doctor's note that her father makes her use so no one will get suspicious. This time, it says that she had a severe case of the stomach flu for the two days she missed.

The door opens behind her, letting in a cool draft, and she relishes in the breeze - wearing a sweater and jeans everyday in hot weather can get very discomforting, so she jumps at every chance she has to rest in low temperatures.

"Ayuzawa?" a male's voice asks, distraught.

She turns around to see Usui-sensei's (and it is Usui-sensei in school, not Takumi) shocked form. Lazily, she waves to him. "Ohayou gozaimasu, Usui-sensei." She yawns again before turning back around. "God, it's too freakin' early to be at school," she mutters to herself.

"Ayuzawa, may I have a word with you?" he says, stepping forward to stand next to her.

She frowns immediately. "But I'm in line - I'll lose my spot -"

"You can take care of that later," he snaps, and her eyes widen at his abrupt tone. "Follow me."

Confused, she obeys, and trails behind him as he leads her to a secluded area in between two buildings.

As soon as they come to a halt, he spins around and places his hand on her shoulders. She jumps a little at the sudden contact.

"Why were you gone for those two days last week?" he asks slowly.

She meets his probing gaze steadily. "My otou-san wasn't very happy with me coming home late. End of story."

"I don't believe you," Takumi states softly. "He did something to harm you again, didn't he?"

She finally looks away. "It's nothing to be surprised about."

"Let me see," he orders quietly.

Misaki begins to rapidly shake her head. "Trust me, you don't want to. N-not this time. It's revolting."

"Even more reasons why I _should _see it." He places his palm under her chin. "Please, Misaki."

She stares at him, dazed, for several seconds before she finally averts her eyes and rolls down the sleeves of her jacket.

She hears him draw in a sharp breath. "He actually…"

Gently, he touches the red, charred skin of her arms.

"…he burned you…"

* * *

_Isn't it funny how fire can be so beautiful_

_Yet deadly at the same time?_

_It stands for supremacy and purification, passion and growth_

_Things that we're all naturally attracted to_

_But when we think of fire in a greater sense, we see death and ruin, suffering and chaos_

_And I? I am the very essence of that pandemonium_

_Look at me once and you'll know_

_In and out, these eternal marks - my eternal flames - will show_

* * *

She looks into his eyes and, even though he's focused on the blisters and swells on her arms, she can see the repugnance and dismay flash through his emerald depths.

Fighting back tears, she jerks her arms back and yanks her sleeves down again. "It's disgusting, isn't it?" she cries, her voice steadily rising as she backs away from him. "You think so too - I can see the way you look at me. I'm nothing but an abhorrence! He freaking poured _scalding water _over my arms just to purposefully injure me! I'm soiled and used and everything I shouldn't be, but I am! I-I can't help it." The tears are flowing freely now. "It's not my fault! I can't change the way my otou-san hurts me or how h-he - "

"Misaki!" he shouts, stunned, and tries to reach for her.

But she continues to back away.

"Don't touch me!" she screams, her eyes wide and unclear. "You think I'm nothing but a worthless toy -"

"Misaki, I don't think tha -"

"Just shut up!" she yells, cutting him off. "You're telling me lies, nothing but lies -"

And because he can't think of any other way to calm her down, he steps forward and slants his mouth over hers.

Instantly, she's quiet.

When he's certain that he's shocked her enough, he pulls away and places a hand on her cheek, staring intensely into her striking amber eyes. As she stares back, more tears fall.

Finally, her outer shell crumbles, and he envelopes her within his arms as she continues to cry.

* * *

Throughout the week, she comes to school every day. Whenever they see each other, they only nod in greeting before passing on to their respective duties. Takumi doesn't know what she's thinking now, or what she thought when he kissed her. He wonders, though. He tries to guess what's going on in her ever-whirring mind.

And he tries to stop what's going on in his.

Several times in those four days he found himself staring off into space, the image of her tear-streaked face prominent in his brain. Often moments he paused in the middle of a lesson and the only thing that he could think about was the feeling of her soft lips on his.

So he isn't surprised when, on Saturday, his heart starts to beat a little faster when he catches sight of her at a bar.

Because he's already decided: he likes her.

* * *

"Misaki," he calls, his voice caressing her name gently.

Immediately, she turns toward him. She smiles when she sees his familiar form, and walks over to greet him. "Takumi," she says, bowing. "Fancy meeting you here."

He bows back, rising slowly afterward.

Tonight she's wearing a black-and-blue striped shirt (long-sleeved, naturally) coupled with faded blue jeans. It's a far more casual look than the last time he saw her near a bar, and he finds that he likes her more like this.

"Aa," he responds, a faint smirk crossing his lips. "And, if I may ask, how old are you?"

She grimaces. "I just turned eighteen, so don't go on ranting about how I'm a minor and all."

"Being a minor has nothing to do with it," he says, his smirk growing wider. "Last time I checked, you had to be twenty-one to enter a bar."

She blushes mildly. "Yeah, well, I don't usually stay in them for long…"

All traces of humor vanish when he realizes the implication of her words: she grabs her customers and then leaves to do her business with them.

"And is _that_ what you're doing tonight?" His tone is cool and unrelenting.

She crosses her arms and glares at him. "Well, I was, but if you're going to be here, then I'm thinking I'll be doing otherwise." She starts to weave her way through the crowd of people, to the exit.

Takumi forces himself to calm down before he follows after her.

"Misaki," he says when he finally reaches her, "at least let me drive you home."

She remains silent for a moment - her eyes randomly focused on a dancing couple - before she sighs and responds quietly, "Fine."

* * *

The car ride is silent, but Takumi finds it relaxing. He lets his mind wander the entire way, not wanting to focus on one thing, but rather multiple thoughts as a whole.

And it's as a result of this wandering that he forgets that he has to take Misaki home, and stops in his own driveway instead.

"Um, Takumi…?"

Her voice finally brings him out of his mental haze. He glances around quickly, and swears under his breath. "Sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." He reaches down to put the car in reverse.

But she places her hand over his, effectively stopping his movements.

With eyes slightly wider than usual, he glances up at her.

He's met with her face no more than two inches away from his own.

Together, as one, their eyes close, and their lips meet once again.

When they break apart, Misaki's eyes are wide: full of trust, need, and something else, something more tender that he knows but can't quite make out.

His eyes, on the other hand, are lowered: full of passion and warmth (and he hopes she can see what his heart is screaming at him: _I love you, I love you, I love you_). They question her silently.

Without a hint of doubt, she smiles softly, and nods.

And together they enter his house, holding each other's hands, and make their way down the hall, to his bedroom.

As they fall onto the large bed, all thoughts of _students _and _teachers_ are forgotten.

* * *

_This is it: the ultimate test_

_It's either me_

_(scarred, tainted, bleeding)_

_Or your old life_

_(normal, easy, unblemished)_

_Now tell me, my love, what do you choose?_

_Darkness…_

…_or luminosity?_

* * *

His shirt comes off first: it's nothing expensive, just a plain black, buttoned-up dress shirt that has all ready seen its glory days.

Misaki takes her time memorizing his features (_when you live every day on the edge, you might as well enjoy beauty when it's offered to you_). She runs her hands over his abdomen, feeling each smooth plane and sudden indent of his well-toned upper body. She kisses his neck, relishes in the supple flex of his muscles when she splays her hands across his wide back.

Soon, though, he pulls away and hooks a finger at the bottom of her shirt. His eyes meet hers with a gentleness she has never seen before.

When her shirt is all the way off, tears begin to well once again.

"Oh, God, don't look," she whispers, her eyes closed, her neck straining to turn away. "Please don't look. I'm repulsive a-and tainted and -"

He places his lips over hers softly. "As a matter of fact, Misaki," he breaths, "I find you beautiful."

And he begins to kiss her scars, her wounds, her bruises and imperfections, one by one, just to show how beautiful she is to him. His lips tenderly move over her body, caress the charred skin on her arms, lightly brush over the red whip marks on her stomach.

With every touch, with every caress, she cries a little more, and her heart breaks a little more.

But as they make love and he tells her she's beautiful, over and over again, her heart is reformed anew.

* * *

She wakes up to find warm emerald eyes gazing at her. She stretches and yawns. "Ohayou," she says quietly.

In response, he leans down and presses his lips to her forehead. When he pulls away, a soft smirk is present on his mouth.

"What time is it?" she asks blearily, peering around the room for a clock.

"Around seven a.m."

"'Kay, good," she yawns. "I won't have to be home for another hour and a half - that's what time my otou-san wakes up to go to work."

He frowns a little at the mention of the man who caused her so much pain.

"Hey, Takumi," she says, moving to press her body against his in a subtle embrace. "I just wanted to let you know that I love you."

His eyes widen for a moment before they lower considerably, and he pulls her against him even more. He kisses her temple tenderly.

She laughs softly. "And why would you be here right now if you didn't love me back?"

"I wouldn't be," he murmurs into her ear.

He feels her muscles relax. "I'm happy to hear it. Now what I want to know is" - she looks into his eyes - "what we're going to do about this."

He frowns, running a hand through her hair slowly. "Well, you're going to graduate this year, right? We just have to keep it a secret until then. After that we are free to do whatever we want."

She nods, and smiles at him. "I like that idea."

* * *

_So you've chosen darkness, my love?_

_Now that you have, you can never go back_

_Even if you want to, your life will never be the same_

_Because now you're tainted, too_

* * *

Takumi drops her off at her house this time. She gave him the directions quietly, refusing to look at him, and now here they are, sitting in his car across the street, waiting for something neither of them can identify.

Her house is a two-story apartment building, complete with a porch and a small lawn outside. The walls are painted a light tan color, while the wood that lines the windows and the door is a deep brown.

It's a normal, everyday house. Nothing to be suspicious about.

But Takumi can feel the malice coming off of it.

"All right, I'm going to go now," Misaki states, and leans over the middle divider of his car to touch her lips with his.

When she pulls away, her eyes are calm and steady. She grins at him. "Goodbye, Takumi."

He watches her walk across the street, through the lawn, and around the side of her house. His hand automatically reaches down to turn his car back on, but instinct tells him to do so otherwise. With narrowed eyes, he exits his car and follows her.

Even though they're on time, he feels something is not right.

* * *

Misaki hastily moves to set the ladder against the side of her house, positioning it so that it leads right to her room's window. With hands that tremble a little more than usual, she climbs the steel bars and silently hops into her room. Afterward, she grabs the top of the ladder and shakes it, thanking God that it's a retractable one that can fit under her bed.

It folds nicely into nothing more than a small steel box.

Suddenly, she senses movement to her right, and freezes. Slowly, she turns her body to face it.

"What a shame," her otou-san sighs. "I had thought maybe you would think twice before disobeying my rules again, but here you are, trying to sneak back into your room after being gone for the whole night. How many times have you done this without my knowing, dearest child? Five times, ten? Maybe even twenty?"

She can't stop the trembling that has started to rack her body.

"And I said something specifically to you, didn't I? Tell me, what did I say?"

She gulps, and whispers, "Y-you said I-I had once last chance b-before I would be g-gone."

"And, dear kid, I am truly sad to say that you have just used up your last chance," he tells her, a forlorn tone coating his voice.

Abruptly, he reaches out and slaps her hard against her cheek. It sends her to the ground.

"Say goodbye to the world, child," he says softly, and she cries out as a knife is drawn to her skin.

* * *

_I'm scared_

_Now that I have you, life has become precious to me_

_I don't want to die_

_I love you too much to leave now_

…_but it's already happening_

_Can you see my tears?_

_I'm crying them for you_

_Once I'm gone, please forget me_

_I don't want you to remember me as the girl who was beaten to death..._

* * *

When Takumi walks to the side of the house, he finds that she's disappeared. Confused, he glances all around, and his eyes focus on an open window above him.

He frowns slightly.

And then a scream reaches his ears. Before he knows it, he's standing at the front door, adrenaline rushing through his veins. With a solid kick, he breaks the door down.

His eyes scour the area for a set of stairs - he finds one to his left, and sprints up them faster than he's ever moved before. Before him is a hallway, but only one of the doors in it are closed. He heads for that one, and without any hesitation, pushes it open.

His heart beats so fast, but he swears that when he sees her lying there, bloody and broken, it stops for a moment.

But then another wave of adrenaline is pumped through him, and he launches himself at her attacker.

He has not gone unnoticed, so when her attacker whirls around and arcs the knife toward him, Takumi narrowly misses being impaled. The knife only barely scratches the skin of his cheek.

Misaki's otou-san lets out a low growl and dives in again, but Takumi is leaner, and he faints to the left easily. He ducks as the knife slashes above his head, and, before his attacker can bring the knife down again, he reaches up and grabs his opponent's dominant wrist, twisting it violently until he hears a sickening pop.

Takumi glances behind him quickly, and, with relief, finds that Misaki is now standing (albeit shakily - the blood still seeping from her new wounds is not helping any).

Her eyes are determined and focused. Immediately, she dives for the knife her otou-san dropped.

At the same time, Takumi seizes the man by his wrists and draws them behind his back so that his chest is left wide open. "Now, Misaki!" he yells, struggling to keep his opponent at bay.

And she drives the knife right into her otou-san's heart.

The man slumps to the ground, bleeding, wide-eyed, and is dead within a minute.

They look at each other from over the motionless body, panting.

Misaki smiles weakly, blood dripping from the side of her mouth, and clasps Takumi to her wounded body. He holds her tightly.

And together they walk away from an old life and into a new.

* * *

Misaki clears her throat as she stands at the podium. The sun is shining brightly, almost blindingly, but she relishes in its warmth.

She reaches up to adjust her blue cap, and then begins her speech.

"So, Seika High seniors, how does it feel to finally be graduating?"

The crowd roars.

She smiles.

"I'm glad to here it. Because you know what? We've put our hearts and souls into getting here today. We've overcome countless obstacles, spent hours upon hours doing our classwork. We've fought until we are almost content with where we stand."

The crowd murmurs its agreement.

"We deserve to be here just as much as any other person deserves to live upon the Earth. And we won't bow down to anyone who says so otherwise."

The crowd yells in encouragement.

"But the truth is, my friends, that this is only the beginning. Each of us has our own unique road to walk, our own life to live. Many more hardships will be placed before us before we can finally take a break and say, 'I think I'm happy with where I am.' For some of us, it'll take years. For others, only months. And maybe some of you have already found your calling. Those of you who have, I'm happy for you, because I know for sure that I have not reached that point yet. It's going to be a while before I'm there."

The crowd laughs lightly.

"But I'm telling you this: never give up. Always keep on fighting, and never avert your eyes from your goal. Although I'm saying this, I know many of us will feel that temptation - we'll feel that need to glance into the darkness, to give into whatever else is calling to us. Trust me, I know what that feeling is like" - she closes her eyes for a second before opening them again - "and I'm telling you that I would not be here today if I had listened to the persuasion. Even if you do, though, even if you make mistakes, just know that there is always light at the end of the tunnel. We might not see it at first, but just know that it's there."

She looks to the left slightly and meets Takumi's proud gaze. He smirks at her softly, and she smiles gently back.

"Because the truth is, my friends, you can't stop time from moving forward, and you sure as hell can't make it go in reverse. All we can do is live in the here, the now, and make the most of what we can from what we have left of ourselves." she stepped back and bows, then throws her cap high into the air.

She watches the ripple effect of caps being thrown before her - a wave of blue, a sense of ending and then beginning again.

"Congratulations, Valedictorian-sama," Takumi whispers into her ear.

She turns to face him and leads him behind the makeshift stage where they cannot be seen.

"Thank you, Takumi," she breaths as he wraps his arms around her and buries his face into her now shoulder-length hair. "Thank you so much for giving me a chance to live."

* * *

_You can't stop time from moving forward_

_And you sure as hell can't make it go in reverse_

_All we can do is live in the here, the now_

_And make the most of what we can_

_From what we have left of ourselves_

* * *

**A/N: **I'm not too sure how I feel about this story. It was kind of iffy for me. :/ but this story is a tribute to all those women out there who are suffering every bit of there life and enduring all the pain and abuse but in the end they stand and protest for themselves. salute to them !

Well, I hope you liked it. Please, please, please review and tell me what you think! :D I'll be the happiest person in the world if you do. Reviews are _always _welcomed, thank you :)


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